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She has a distant look on her face and I wonder where her mind has taken her. It certainly isn’t here with me. “My mom was an addict when I was a kid. She was addicted to prescription drugs—painkillers, sedatives, whatever she could get her hands on. When I was eight, I found her passed out and submerged in the bathtub. I tried to pull her out, but she was too heavy. Every time I’d get her face above the water, she’d take a breath and then slip from my grasp. She pulled me into the tub under her and I was drowning. I still remember what it felt like to be held under that water knowing I was about to die.”
“How did you not drown?”
“I had pulled the plug in the drain as soon as I found her. It took a while, but the water drained low enough for me to breathe.”
“What happened to your mum?”
“Almost killing both of us was her wake-up call. She got clean and has been for almost fifteen years.” I would hope so if her addiction almost killed her and her eight-year-old daughter.
She’s watching my face. “I’ve never told anyone that.”
How could she not tell anyone? “What do you mean?”
“It’s been our secret all of these years. You’re the only person who knows.”
“Both of you almost died. That’s not the kind of thing you keep secret.”
She pulls the towel tighter around her shoulders. “I learned to keep secrets at a very early age, Lachlan. I would’ve been taken away from her if I had told.”
“Maybe you should have been taken from her.”
“We survived and she went to rehab that night. I stayed with my grandparents while she got clean and I was there for her when she came home.”
She was only a child. Her mother should’ve been the one there for her, not the other way around. No one protected her and she was robbed of her childhood. She says she learned to keep secrets at a very early age, so I have to wonder what else she’s hiding.
29
Laurelyn Prescott
I see the look in Lachlan’s eyes and I know what he’s thinking—my mother is sorry and lowdown. And there have been times when she has been; she isn’t perfect. If I’m honest, she has been a shitty mother, but she’s the only parent I have. At least she’s been there—that’s more than I can say for the sperm donor.
Maybe I should regret telling him this secret I’ve kept for fifteen years, but I don’t. I feel a burden lift from my heart and soul. Only one word describes what I’m experiencing: peace.
Lachlan’s squatting in front of me, his hands on my knees. I slide to the edge of my seat and he wraps his arms around me. It’s in this moment that I realize something—I can tell Lachlan anything. There is no pretense of perfection between us. I don’t need him to believe I have it all together when I don’t. “That felt so damn good.”
“What did?”
I’m almost giddy by my epiphany. “Telling you what happened with my mom and finally admitting what a shitty job she did as a parent before she got clean. I had no idea how great it would feel to finally tell someone.”
“I think that’s why therapy is so highly recommended.”
There he goes with the medical advice again. “Yes, Dr. Henry. I believe you could be right on this account.”
“I’m always right on every account.”
We go back into the pool after we finish eating and I can tell that Lachlan is nervous. I assure him I’m fine, but he won’t venture past the steps, and we sit staggered in the water with me between his legs. The dam holding all my secrets is breached and I tell him things I thought I would take to my grave.
Lachlan listens and says little. I’m not sure if it’s because he doesn’t know how to respond or if he’s too disturbed by what he’s hearing. It doesn’t matter because reaction isn’t what I need. Listening is, and it’s one of the things he does very well.
By the time I finish telling Lachlan my childhood tales, the water has shriveled us like little old people. I hold my hand up to examine it. “I think this is a sign that it’s past time to get out.”
“I think you’re right.”
Once we’re dried off, I wrap my towel around my waist. As I’m tucking it, I see Lachlan studying me. “What?”
He drops his head to peer over his sunglasses at me. “I hope you haven’t caught too much sun today. You’re a wee bit red.”
I look at my shoulder and pull the strap of my bikini to the side. I hear Lachlan suck air through his teeth. “Damn, Laurelyn. I’m afraid that’s going to sting tonight.”
Lachlan is not the least bit pink, so I move the top of my bikini down for an inspection. It doesn’t hurt or appear burned to me, but I won’t be able to tell anything until we’re out of the sun.
We stop in the kitchen to drop off our lunch plates and Mrs. Porcelli’s eyes grow large when she sees me. “Oh, Laurelyn dear. There’s an aloe vera aftersun lotion in the medicine cabinet when you’re ready for it. There’s lidocaine in it and it should help with the pain.”
Oh, shit. What have I done?
We go into the bathroom together and I slip off my towel. Things aren’t so bad when I remove my bikini top. Sure, there’s a distinct contrast between my freshly sun-kissed skin and the white lines of my swimsuit, but it’s not terrible.
He’s standing behind me surveying the damage. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve noticed when you started burning.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t stay pink for long.” He looks doubtful as he assesses my shoulders. “Really, Lachlan. You’ll see. This will be on its way to turning brown by morning.”
“In the meantime, why don’t you take a cool shower? That should help, and I’ll rub you down with lotion when you’re out.”
A rubdown by Lachlan? Being sunburned is sounding better and better. “That sounds perfect.”
He’s right. The cool shower feels really nice. I notice my shoulders are a little tender to the water pelting down on them, but it’s nothing too uncomfortable.
When I’m finished showering, I pat my skin dry and step out to find Lachlan waiting for me with a bottle of aloe vera lotion. He holds it up and gives it a shake as he grins. “Do you want me to do it in here with you standing, or would you rather I do it with you lying on the bed?”
Hmm, that sounds dirty. “I don’t know. Both options sound appealing.”
